1.5 I looked into a room that was ruined by a fire

As I stared into this room, I imagined people laughing. A pianist at the keys of the abandoned piano. I looked deep into the back and I saw a bar or a small kitchen. Good food. Cocktails made and served to those now empty chairs. I saw the warm glow of a single flame by wick and wax, at the centre of every table.

Sandwiches and dancing! String lights and coffee.  I swear I could still hear the music playing. I see the curtains' arms opened wide to invite the sunlight in. Plants smiling at their caregiver upon a showering of water. 

"Grow strong beautiful" She whispers to the stems as she backs away toward her daily tasks.

Each of those plants in shattered clay pots, was bought with the intent to nourish it. Water it. But then, a fire broke loose. I'm not too sure when. I think it started in the building next door. If you turned the corner from the street and you could still smell the smoke radiating off the burnt wood.

People had a great time in there. I could feel it. I saw their ghosts. Perhaps the fire's heat preserved the energetic mark of the people. A lot of love was put into that place and even in ruins, the love remains. I imagine many tears were shed during the discovery of this tragedy. I wonder why some things weren't able to be rescued, or why the room remains a mess. It could be that the structural integrity of the space had been compromised by the fire. I do see bits of ceiling on the ground. A ceiling should never be on the ground. 

I just can't get over the fact that the building's days are numbered. It's in ruins. It is a relic for what the people living there experienced. Sorrow flooded my chest as I realized the horrors of fire. I began to pray for them. It felt almost like time travel. I think of the Ancient Ruins of the World. Grand structures built to support a flourishing people, laid to rest as dusty walls of rubble and vine. Some things you can't control. There is a greater plan. I believe this. Maybe this structure had to go to make room for something more. Was it an Act of God or an Act of Selfish pursuit? Neither?

I've seen the wreck of manmade fires in old buildings before. Rumours bubbled about of foreign real estate companies paying off the less fortunate to start a fire so they can buy the land, build a high-rise and quadruple the rent. I'm sure it's more complicated than that, but the fact that it's even a rumour in the first place horrifies me. I'm not saying it's true, but damn... maybe! How can we be so sure of anything these days?

We know big business will put the lives of good people at risk just to make a buck. It's happened before and will happen again. I digress.

I guess what I want to say is that the impermanence of life rattles me. When I see or experience a change in something that once seemed so permanent; I mourn. It feels to me like an honouring of what it was. To put it simply, I cry a lot. It's the only way for me to accept the way things are now. I have gone through a change. I feel like if you were to take a photo of my mind at this very moment, it would look similar to remnants of a fire. Except, my structural integrity is strong. My parents made sure of this. A couple of days ago I began sweeping away the dirt of my mind. Tuning the sharps and flats of my inner piano. I am opening the curtains to my eyes and allowing the sun to illuminate the ruins of my past.

Cheers to something new!

Ilyf, 

Bianca Isabella